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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934760">Half-Measures</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayj4ck/pseuds/Rayj4ck'>Rayj4ck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, you have no idea how hard it is to not call her Lena Sabrewing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayj4ck/pseuds/Rayj4ck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Webby got Lena her body back! Kinda. Almost. They just need a way to make it stick.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Half-Measures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was clearing out some of my old saved pics on my phone, and I came across some from the Olde Days when Lena was still trapped in Webby's shadow, and my brain made a few connecting jumps all by itself.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ok.” Webby put her hands on her hips and looked into the mouth of the cave. “If my notes are correct, it should be in here.” Pulling out her pocket journal, she compared the inscriptions above the jagged split in the rock to her notes. “And I’m never wrong.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Definitely not true.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Are you ready?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Let’s do it.” </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Hhhhhnnnnnn!” Webby strained as her fingers wedged in the tiny crack pushed against the stone that had sealed them into the room. “How does this! Mechanism still work! It’s at least! 600 years old!”</p>
<p>
  <em> “They just don’t build deathtraps like they used to anymore. Remember that one Beaks had? Just chained to a chair? In a conference room? There weren’t even lasers or an acid pit or anything” </em>
</p>
<p>“It was...pretty...insulting…” Webby heaved, but the stone refused to budge. Letting go, she slumped back onto the cold stone floor with a sigh. “I think this one is yours. You can fit through that crack right?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yeah, probably.”  </em>
</p>
<p>“And you let me struggle against it for ten minutes anyway?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “a) You would have done that anyway, and b) we all know I think your muscles are hot.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Mmm. Fair points.” Webby stood up from the floor and stretched up, working out some of the tightness in her muscles from her efforts against the stone door. “Ready?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “Whenever you are.” </em>
</p>
<p>Webby walked up to the back wall of the room, where her shadow was projected. As she approached, it became darker and darker, the rough stone texture fading away into the blackness. Making sure she was properly lined up (she had plenty of embarrassing moments where she walked clean into the wall because she was an inch or two off), Webby closed her eyes and focused. As she reached where the wall would be, she continued walking, her form rapidly losing its tangibility as she went. At the same time, another, taller figure was stepping out of her shadow, passing through her but becoming more solid by the second. It was over in less than a second, and Lena stood in the stone room, stretching her arms and blinking her eyes against the suddenly chromatic world around her. </p>
<p>“Ooh, that’ll never not feel weird.” She finished off by rotating her head until she heard her neck crack. “All good?”</p>
<p>
  <em> “All good!”  </em>
</p>
<p>“Alright. Let’s rock and roll.” Stepping up to the small sliver of space between the wall and door of their stone tomb, Lena muttered a few ancient words under her breath, and with a final hand motion, her solid body turned into a mist, easily flowing through the crack. </p>
<hr/>
<p>“We’re almost there!” Webby cheered as she jogged up the stone steps. Lena had been doing well, navigating her way through a classic step-on-the-right-tile puzzle, and a much less subtle axes-swing-from-the-ceiling-and-cut-you-in-half trap, but they had to switch again when the zombies turned up. Lena’s combat spells weren’t really up to snuff at the moment. </p>
<p>
  <em> “And the Janus gauntlets will work?” </em>
</p>
<p>“Well, they probably won’t make it worse!” </p>
<p>
  <em> “Very optimistic of you.” </em>
</p>
<p>Webby skipped the step that was obviously weighted to shoot a poison dart at her head and continued bounding up, two at a time. “Just think! We’ll finally be able to hold...hands...again…” Webby trailed off as she crested the top of the stairs and looked over the platform at the top.</p>
<p>
  <em> “God dammit.” </em>
</p>
<p>There was very clearly a spot where a pair of gloves should be sitting, two roughly hand-shaped raised sections of a stone dais evidence enough.  However, there were no gloves. Instead, between the raised stone hands sat a note, folded into a pyramid, like it was marking the name for a reserved table at an upscale restaurant. Webby picked up the note and read aloud.</p>
<p>“Jokes’ on you, Scroogey! I got here first! The better Scottish billionaire,” Webby sighed, migraine already forming. “Flintheart Glomgold.”</p>
<p>
  <em> “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” </em>
</p>
<p>“How did he even get through all the traps!?!” Webby shouted, frustration leaking through. </p>
<p>
  <em> “Knowing him, I bet he didn’t. He probably hit every single one, and they hurt tremendously but bounced off like he was made of rubber.” </em>
</p>
<p>Webby ground her teeth and nearly shredded the note in her hand.</p>
<p><em> “Hey, Pink. It’s ok. We know where they are, and even better, it’s </em> Glomgold <em> . You could sneak into his treasure vault in your sleep.” </em></p>
<p>“I <em> have </em>been practicing my unconscious infiltration methodology…”</p>
<p>
  <em> “See? Not a problem. We’ve been waiting years for this, what’s one more week?” </em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, your right!” Webby perked back up and donned her cheery smile once more. “This’ll be a piece of cake!” </p>
<p>
  <em> “There she is. Come on, let’s head outside and radio Launchpad.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Right!” Webby turned around and made her way back down the steps. For a while, the one walked in silence.</p>
<p>
  <em> “Wait, holding hands? That’s your big highlight for when I get my body back?” </em>
</p>
<p>“Shut up!” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My brain: Hey, wouldn't it be cool if Webby and Lena could switch between who was in the shadow realm and who wasn't?<br/>Me: Yeah, that would make a cool video game, where Lena uses magic to solve traps and puzzles, and Webby is more focused on combat.<br/>My brain: Yeah!<br/>Me: I don't know how to make a video game though.<br/>My brain: Yeah, too bad...oh well! Better get working!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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